


Variant

by PortalPanda



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Injury, Post Legacy, hints at past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalPanda/pseuds/PortalPanda
Summary: It's not quite a reunion.
Relationships: Rinzler (Tron)/Yori (Tron), Tron (Tron)/Yori (Tron)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	Variant

He reboots to a flurry of error messages and _pain_. He winces at the sky as he takes stock of himself, stretching to test what’s hurt. Memory files are scrambled (digging through those causes a different kind of pain), but he knows that Clu and the Users are gone. There’s no one to answer to now, for better or worse. 

Moving is ill advised, but the ground is hard and uneven beneath him, further aggravating the ache of injuries. After a few nanos he eases himself to a sitting position. That’s when he receives a different warning.

Another program is sitting several feet away from him.

Her lightlines are a deep blue, just bright enough to shield her from the darkness. Her knees are tucked under her chin, making her look even smaller than she already is. Her shuttered eyes suggest rest mode. 

He pauses, calculating.

Perhaps he can sneak past this program without detection. She does not read as a threat, (she could have derezzed him while he was offline) and yet something in his root code tells him to _get away from her_ while he still can.

But that would be too easy. 

The program sits up the nano he moves. He is more damaged than he first thought; the color of her eyes makes him freeze. She looks less afraid than he feels. What is _happening_?

“Easy.” Her voice is low. She raises empty hands in what might be a gesture of peace. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

He glares at her behind his helmet, perfectly still and furious. Clu liked that line, too. Clu _lied_. 

Something like desperation clouds her face when a broken sound escapes him. 

“Tron,” she tries. And that gets a reaction-- just not the kind she wants. His damaged purr warps into something like a snarl. Her hands clench at her sides. “ _Rinzler_.” 

That name should be spoken with fear, but if anything she sounds… scolding. It’s still more gentle than the closest tone Clu used. 

The program meets his eyes as if she can see them, and somehow that drains the anger out of him. His growl drops to something softer. 

“You’re hurt,” she says, oddly quiet. 

One of his injuries is glowing almost as brightly as his circuits; a diagonal fracture that runs from his hip to the base of his throat. Frame integrity is at 50%. As far as injuries go, he’s had worse. But it does look bad, and apparently it concerns the program in front of him. He resists the urge to inch backwards ( _can’t look weak_ ) as she rises to her feet.

“I want to help you,” she says, slowly creeping closer. “Please—”

(He is injured and she is a stranger _she is a_ **_threat_ **—)

He panics, lashing out when the program gets too close. She recoils before he inflicts any damage to her. He isn’t so lucky. He can feel the crack in his frame deepen and spread. He would scream or collapse if such things were permitted; instead, he curls in on himself and _glares_ at her.

Foolish, stubborn program. He can hold himself together _without_ her help. Any time anyone has offered him help, it has only ended in more pain. But he can’t tell her that, and he can’t seem to scare her off. 

She sits a safe distance away, still more annoyed (concerned?) than afraid. Her gaze is an odd mixture of patience and intensity. 

“If you’ll let me see your disc, I can help you.” Her tone implies he is a newly rezzed beta. He growls. Again, she displays her empty hands. “I won’t change anything else. I just want to patch your injuries. Then you can go wherever you want. I won’t bother you again.”

An interesting decision gate. He does not want anyone to alter his code ever again— much less someone he doesn’t know. But a chance at true freedom might be worth the risk. Realistically, he doubts he could get very far in his current condition. And she could have hurt him already if she truly wanted to...

The other program huffs a sigh, reading his silence as defiance.

“Fine. How about this?” 

In one swift motion she removes the disc from her back and slides it towards him. It bumps against his knee, harmless. His purr stutters. 

“Give me your disc,” she instructs. Absently, he thinks she would have made a good commander. “You have mine. If I try to hurt you, or change anything I’m not supposed to, you can return the favor.”

His hand wraps around the weapon on instinct. Part of him calms while part of him screams. He is familiar with _this_. Fighting is always the safest choice. This program is small and unarmed— not designed for combat. Injured as he is, he could easily overpower her. 

_No_.

He does not want to hurt her, but perhaps he can frighten her away. She is no one to make demands of him— to hold him prisoner like this. He will not be anyone’s prisoner ever again. Derezzing alone would still be better than _that_.

She watches, detached, as her disc flares to life in his hand. But before he can advance, something happens.

Each program has a unique energy signature. Hers bleeds into his hand when he activates her disc, tinging the circuits on his fingers a soft blue. The sensation is oddly familiar. His core catches as he shudders, and the weapon drops from his hand, clattering back to the ground. Horror floods his systems. He is malfunctioning… because of her?

“Please.” 

When his gaze snaps back to her she is watching him. The expression on her face is wrong. He thinks that she is broken, though he can detect no injuries to her shell. Her light is dim. Exhausted. He does not know why. The glitch returns, and he has the absurd desire to protect her. Maybe it’s because she looks at him like she actually cares. Mostly, she is pleading for something he can’t give her. 

The staticky sensation in his hand is fading with her color. He makes an unhappy noise.

Reaching for his own weapon causes more pain. He tosses it towards her in a moment of terrible weakness ( _Clu would not tolerate_ ), and she swipes it from the air with perfect grace. He amends his earlier assessment of her. Just because she wasn’t made for combat doesn’t mean she cannot fight.

Regardless, she has the power to undo him now; he is not brave enough to look at her while his weapon is in her hands. His grip tightens on her own disc, reminding himself of the bit of insurance he still has. He wonders if he could hurt her, if he needed to. What little courage he had is quickly fading. 

Jagged stone juts out of the ground behind him, and he leans against it for support, trying not to purr. 

“Thank you.” Her voice is heavy, but still soft. He searches for smugness there and finds none. “I'll try to be gentle.”

His eyes wrench shut as fingers begin to comb through his code. Micros drag by, weighed with dread. His head dips to his chest, and he almost begs someone for help before he realizes he can’t recall their name. How many times has he already been through this? How many times must he go through this again? 

“It’s alright.” 

He jolts backward when she touches his arm, offering [ _comfort_ ]. Brave, reckless program. When did she get so close? 

She wears the ghost of a smile, as if something amuses her. He can only stare as she settles on the ground next to him. 

His disc is balanced on her lap. The display is still open; his code spins in a lazy circle. That ruddy orange looks wrong against her blue light. 

“I can stop if you want.” 

He blinks. She is asking permission. That’s new. The sentiment is nice, but from this proximity he could stop her, if he wanted to. 

He shakes his head.

“Keep going?” She asks. He nods.

Her closeness is either disarming or distracting. At first he watches her work, (that does make things a little less frightening) and notes that she’s so careful he can hardly feel her edits. (Maybe edits were never supposed to be painful…) His damaged code is knitting back together nicely. 

Then she shifts, and her knee rests against his. He waits for her to move away. She does not. If her expression is any indication, she isn’t nearly as fascinated by this simple contact as he is.

“Designation.” 

_Glitch_ . He didn’t mean to say that. He is not _supposed_ to speak. But no consequence comes, and he has gained her attention, despite the fact that that was more of an order than a request. A small success, then.

She cants her head. She might be searching his face for something if she could actually see him.

“Yori,” she says. 

Something inside of him quells at that name. His purr evens out, less broken and more calm. Yori continues to watch him. Waiting.

“Rinzler,” he offers, because that is all that’s left. The name is wrong but it is still better, safer, than the Other. 

Her expression pinches at that name. Her gaze lingers for just a nano longer, flickering to his throat before returning to his code.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had to write something with these two for Valentine's Day. This is a oneshot for now, though I'd kind of like to continue it... 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!


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